


I'd rather this lift went crashing than have you for a mate.

by MycroftsBum



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Hate to Love, M/M, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:07:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2387741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MycroftsBum/pseuds/MycroftsBum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when two men who despise each other are trapped in a confined space for an hour? Read to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Thank you for your time, Detective Inspector.” Mycroft drawled as he turned on his heel with the newly acquired case files under his arm, leaving a fuming Lestrade behind. Lestrade slammed his hand on his desk and cursed venomously before following Mycroft out. He caught up to the man while he was waiting for the elevator. “Now hang on. You can not just come in here and take my files without any notification and certainly not without telling me why” Greg said sternly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Actually, Detective Inspector, I can.” Mycroft replied with a false smile gracing his face.  
The elevator dinged to their floor “Good day Inspector.” Mycroft said, disinterested, stepping into the lift and pressing the button floor. Greg growled and stopped the doors from closing with his hand, stepping in to join Mycroft. “Now listen here, you're not leaving with those files until you at least give me the reason you need them.” Mycroft rolled his eyes. “I am afraid I am not at liberty to discuss that, Detective, I am sure you understand.”  
“Understand? No I don't bloody understand how you can just come in and take my files without any reasoning for it” Greg raised his voice, his arms gesturing wildly. The lift jolted, the lights flickering, and then it stilled. 

Greg slammed at the elevator buttons before twirling back to Mycroft, “Is this down to you?” he questioned incredulously. Mycroft rolled his eyes once again. “Hardly” he muttered before taking out his mobile. He looked at the screen with a furrowed brow “No service” he said through pursed lips. “Really? No service in an elevator during a storm? You Holmes genius' never stop amazing me” Greg scoffed. He reached for the emergency phone that would call to maintenance. When he held it to his ear he was met with silence. He slammed it back down “Bloody phone is down” he grumbled, to which Mycroft sniffed indignantly. 

“Right, well we might be here for a while, how about you tell me what you need those files for?” Greg asked, still as much energy for the fight as he had before. Mycroft tightened his jaw, the very idea of spending any more time with this man than was absolutely necessary was repulsive. “I do believe I just told you it was confidential, or do you not comprehend the concept?” Mycroft shot back with a bite in his tone. If he had to be contained with Greg, he was not about to be polite about it. Greg narrowed his eyes in return. “It's my case, it's under my jurisdiction, it's my business-” “Not any more” Mycroft cut him off, punctuating each word with an air that commanded no argument. Mycroft's eyebrows shot up at the reaction he received from Greg. A loud snort filled the elevator. “You think you're so bloody intimidating, don't you? You're not scary, Holmes. Not in the slightest.” Greg informed him, still wearing that amused expression that grated on Mycroft's every nerve. “Maybe, you are just not wise enough to be afraid.” Mycroft warned, using the most threatening voice he could muster. Greg's expression fell slightly before coming back to himself. “What are you going to do, eh? You annoy me, and there's not going to be any more cases for your brother, and then who's going to have to deal with his tantrums? You, Mycroft.” he explained, clearly pleased with himself. He had said these exact words to John every time the elder Holmes came up in conversation, telling him of how next time he would tell the posh tosser exactly what he thought of him. Of course, once he had sobered up and was back in his office being bossed around by the man, the most resistance Greg put up was an exaggerated sigh, which was not as effective as he hoped. He didn't know what happened this time, he was just tired of being walked over. He had Sherlock in the morning, and lord knows how that boy can test someone's patience, he had a call from Caroline's lawyer at lunch with a list of her demands which he had defeatedly agreed to, and now, even his PCs were mouthing off to him. All of which culminated to Mycroft bloody Holmes marching into his office and taking the files he had spent all night working on from his desk.  
Mycroft puffed a breath of air from his mouth in lieu of a response. He knew Greg was right, he couldn't persuade him in any of his usual ways lest stop providing Sherlock, though he had planned on the man not being able to work that out for himself. He could still, however, use his most valued method, manipulation. 

Mycroft turned his eyes soft and looked to Greg, giving off a weary look “Detective Inspector” he sighed “I do value your work and your authority entirely. And I wholly appreciate what you do for my dear brother” he said in a way that sounded sincere, he supposed in a way, he did mean what he said. “I truly wish I could tell you the reasons behind me needing these files, but unfortunately, my hands are tied.” he lied.  
Greg considered him for a moment, taking him in closely, before scoffing. “Bullshit. Do you ever get tired of all the complete shite you talk?” he asked, not even annoyed that Mycroft was playing him as a moron, that was how the Holmes' saw him, after all. Mycroft felt the corner of his lip quirk “Sometimes” he answered, impressed that Greg had seen through his act, not even the top politicians could do that. 

After a while in silence, Greg studied Mycroft as he sat on the floor looking up at him. The man was shifting from one foot to another every so often, leaning his weight onto his umbrella. Greg's feet had gotten tired ages ago, and he wondered why Mycroft was still bothering to stand.  
“Would you not sit down?” Greg asked finally, nodding to the floor. Mycroft glanced down, at Greg and hence to the dusty floor. “I would rather not” he answered with a grimace. Greg looked to the floor with a furrowed brow, it was a little dirty, he supposed, but he hardly cared. Though, he expected Mycroft's trousers alone cost more than the elevator they were currently in. Greg sighed, taking his coat off and laying it on the floor. “Come on then Princess” Greg said, gesturing to the coat on the floor. Mycroft scowled at the term. “I am quite alright standing, thank you.” Greg shook his head, did he have to always be so stubborn? “It's already gotten dirty, you might as well” Greg pushed, not going to be the one to give up this time. Mycroft stood for another moment before lowering himself to Greg's coat. Greg looked at him expectantly before he said “Thank you Detective Inspector”. “Greg” he corrected. They had known each other for years, he would like for at least one Holmes to remember his name. Mycroft looked sceptical. “Detective Inspector.” he repeated. Greg grated his teeth, he was going to kill this man. “I said, Greg.” he ground out. “We are not friends” Mycroft reminded him distantly. Greg turned to face him “Good. I think I'd rather this lift went crashing than have you for a mate.” he replied angrily. “Charming” Mycroft said under his breath. Greg huffed and sat back violently, his back slamming against the wall loudly. Greg winced slightly, not having meant to sit back that hard. A hint of a smile was found on Mycroft's face as he asked “Are you quite alright?”. Greg scowled “Piss off.” he replied. He sat frowning for a moment before glancing to the man sitting beside him, who he found was looking back at him, very amused. The whole ridiculousness of the situation his Greg in that moment as he burst out laughing. It was only once he had calmed down that he realised Mycroft had been laughing as well. Greg looked at him in surprise, he did not think Mycroft even knew how to laugh. Mycroft cleared his throat as he straightened his tie “Yes, well.” Greg continued to grin at him. “You're allowed to have a laugh, you know.” Greg said, not entirely sure if Mycroft did know. Mycroft hummed and went back to staring ahead of him. 

Greg could not stand the silent tension any longer. He took out his phone and began to scroll through it. He sniggered to himself once he found what he was looking for. “Hey, remember that time Sherlock got drugged by that bird” Greg said. “That 'bird' that almost collapsed national security, yes, I do recall the occasion.” Myroft replied stiffly. Greg paid no mind to him. “Yeah, well. I got a video of him rambling on. It's pretty funny actually.” he explained as he scooted closer to Mycroft with their shoulders touching so that they could both watch the video together.  
Greg managed to get another laugh out of Mycroft, this one more of a rumbling chuckle that made Greg feel at home.  
They spent the next forty five minutes regaling each other with stories of Sherlock. Mycroft, with stories of their childhood, and Greg with stories of his antics on their cases. Mycroft already knew all about what Sherlock did on every case, of course, but he thought Greg had a talent for storytelling. If you had told Greg two hours ago that he would be spending this long in an elevator with Mycroft without killing him, he would have been surprised, if you had have said they would be laughing like old friends, he would have thought you were mad.  
By this stage, Mycroft had taken his own jacket off, loosened his tie and was currently rolling up his shirt sleeves. Greg stared at him, amazed at how the other man looked when he was not so uptight, the outfit complemented by the blush on his face caused by laughter and his hair having come out of it's perfect mould. “You know, you actually look really good like this. Relaxed.” Greg commented after another laughing fit at a story of Sherlock playing pirate by tying his teacher to a chair. Mycroft's face changed momentarily, but to what, Greg didn't catch. “Thank you..Greg.” he said, his face straining at the name as if it was causing him a lot of effort to say it. Greg beamed back and gave a cheer “Wahey! There you go Holmes! Well done, I'm proud” he said, gripping Mycroft's arm and patting him on the shoulder vigorously “Does this mean we're friends now?” he teased. “If I am calling you Greg, then you should stop calling me 'Holmes'” Mycroft snipped instead of answering. Greg took that as a yes. “Alright, message received..”Myc'”. He said, a slow grin spreading across his face at the look of disgust coming from Mycroft. Greg slung his arm around Mycroft's shoulder “Okay buddy. How about Mycie? Yeah, I like that.” he continued with his teasing. He suddenly realised that his teasing sounded a lot like flirting. He couldn't be, there was no possible way he was flirting with Mycroft Holmes, he hated the man. Yet here he was, his arm wrapped around him calling him by a pet name. Of course he knew the man was attractive, there was no use denying that, but he definitely didn't fancy him. It was the elevator air, it must be going to his head. He only realised Mycroft had said something when he glanced at him and saw the man looking up at him sporting a pout. God, those lips. Greg couldn't take his eyes off them. He found himself wetting his own lips. He was not going to do this, he was definitely not going to do this. And yet, he found himself moving closer, and Mycroft wasn't moving away. He chanced a look in his eyes. He looked like he was calculating, the way Sherlock looks when something didn't work out as he had planned, and wasn't that an understatement in this case. He brought his eyes back to Mycroft's lips, he got just close enough that they barely brushed together when the elevator clattered into action. Greg was jolted into Mycroft at the sudden movement who was blushing furiously, standing and fixing himself to look presentable again. Greg stayed sitting on the floor for a moment, he had been about to snog Mycroft Holmes, and he was going to let him. He shook his head and when he looked back up at Mycroft, he was holding out Greg's jacket. “Myc, I..” he said as the doors opened. “Thank you, Detective Inspector.” Mycroft said primly before leaving the elevator and hence the Yard. Greg stared after him, wondering if he had been in an alternative world for the last hour.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're telling me that Mycroft Holmes, obnoxious twat extraodinaire, was going to let you snog him?”  
> Greg gets some advice from his good friend John, and has another run in with his new favourite Holmes.

“You alright boss?” Sally asked, raising an eyebrow to the man still on the floor. Greg shook his head   
“Yeah. Fine” he said, distantly, taking the hand she offered to stand up.   
“You were in there an hour, with freak point two, I don't blame you for looking peaky” she rambled, but Greg wasn't particularly listening.   
“Tell maintenance to get an out of order sign on that until they can give it a full inspection” Greg informed Sally while he headed to the stairs to get back to his office. Once back in the safety behind his desk, he ran through the events the had taken place today. He had been pissed off at Mycroft, nothing surprising about that. He had offered his coat for Mycroft to sit on, he would have done that for anyone. He had a laugh with Mycroft, that was unusual, though it could be chalked up to desperation and delirium.   
“Ah.” Greg said aloud. That was it, it had been a moment of exhaustion. Of course if you were locked in a room with someone for a long time you'd end up snogging them, there was no way he fancied Mycroft Holmes. Greg turned back to work, satisfied with his conclusion. It was less than a minute until the doubt started to niggle at him. If it was true that the impulse to kiss him was because of the elevator illusion, then why did his fingers continue to ghost over his lips, and why did he regret the elevator chugging into action. He flung his head back with a loud groan. He needed a second opinion. He takes out his phone and sends John a vague text asking him to meet up tonight. John is intrigued about the reason for such an urgent meet up, but Greg remains silent, telling him he would find out tonight at the pub. With the hope that he would gain at least some clarity about the whole situation, he set back to work, frowning every time he passed the elevator. 

***  
John stared at Greg for a few moments, trying to work him out “Piss off.” he said, expression of disbelief still present on his face “You're not serious. That did not happen.” John continued, a hint of a laugh coming into his voice. It was completely ridiculous for a number of reasons. Greg gave him a pointed look, not appreciating John's reaction, yet understanding it entirely. John shook his head.  
“Okay sorry. Let me just get this straight, you were in an elevator with Mycroft Holmes, the man you hate more than anyone you've ever met, and you found yourself trying to snog him.” John said, raising an eyebrow at Greg even though he knew it was all correct.   
“That's right.” Greg nodded begrudgingly. John nodded in return before continuing   
“And then, you're telling me that Mycroft Holmes, obnoxious twat extraodinaire, was going to let you snog him?” John asked in a patronising fashion, wondering is Sherlock had finally caused the man to lose his marbles.   
“Well he wasn't moving away” Greg protested. He knew what had happened, or at least, he thought he did.   
“But then he just walked away” Greg shook his head at the memory “Thank you, Detective Inspector.” he quoted before frowning at John. John took a swig of his pint before turning towards Greg.  
“Look, we're never going to understand why these Holmes' do what they do. So you best just understand yourself. So what, do you fancy Mycroft?” he asked incredulously.   
“Of course not.” Greg protested immediately. John leaned back and raised his eyebrows at Greg expectantly. Greg leaned back himself and looked around the bar, sipping from his pint as he thought over the question. He could not stand Mycroft Holmes, he deserved the title of World's Biggest Arse. Though, despite all odds, Greg had a good time with the man, certainly a good enough time to warrant wanting to kiss him.   
“I don't know” he said, looking back to John. “He's not as bad as we thought. Maybe we could be mates.” At the look of disgust he received from John, he changed his mind   
“Yeah. Not mates. But I could never go out with him. Could you even imagine that?” Greg asked, eliciting a snort from John. John gulped back the end of his pint before speaking again, he wasn't good with this whole talking about feelings lark.   
“I guess, just see what you think next time you see him?” John advised. Greg blew out a sigh “Suppose that's the only thing I can do” Greg agreed “Cheers mate” he said with a grin, turning to the football on the television. They sat and drank another pint, talking about less monumental things while Greg's mind was stuck on Mycroft. John excused himself after the second pint, saying he had an early shift at the clinic the next day, so Greg shared a taxi with him. He got out at Baker street also, his flat was not too far from there. He said goodbye to John, and thanked him again. He had barely walked three minutes before the sky opened and he began being lashed upon. He grumbled a curse and pulled his coat tighter around himself, wishing he had stayed in the taxi and had not desired some fresh air. 

Storming through the street to get home before he was completely drenched, he had a feeling of being watched, but it was probably just copper's paranoia. He thought he saw a familiar back vehicle near him, but chalked it up to thinking about Mycroft too much. That was, until the car stopped directly beside him and rolled down the window.   
“Detective Inspector Lestrade?” Mycroft's assistant called to him. He turned and grinned.  
“Late night meeting is it?” he asked as Anthea swung the door nearest to him open. He clambered in gratefully. He usually did not go this willingly, but it was different this time, and not just because of the weather.   
“Where we off to then?” Greg asked, even though he never got an answer. Anthea shifted further from Greg, not wanting to get dripped on.   
“You are going home.” she answered. Greg wrinkled his brow.  
“Home? Then why am I here?” he ventured, never knowing what Holmes was going to do next. “Mr Holmes requested that we bring you home” she answered obviously. A small smile made it's way to Greg's face. Who knew that the man knew how to be sweet? Greg did not want to think that he had sent a car just so that Greg would not have to walk home in the rain, but it did seem to be the only explanation. He settled back in his seat and savoured the warmth, thinking maybe it was worth giving Mycroft a chance.   
“He also asked that I give you this.” Anthea said, taking an envelope from her bag and holding it out to Greg. “He said he appreciated your cooperation on the McGowan case.” Greg frowned, the McGowan case was the one Mycroft had relieved him of the other day. He warily took the envelope and looked inside, coming face to face with a wad of money.   
“Oh bloody hell” Greg mumbled, shaking his head “You got a pen there?” Greg barked at Anthea. She gave him a look, unimpressed with his tone, but reached into her bag and handed him a pen all the same. Greg rolled the pen in his fingers until they had stopped at a traffic light. He scrawled “PISS OFF” across the envelope and handed that and the pen back to Anthea.  
“Tell him I don't do bribes, cheers” Greg snapped at Anthea before undoing his seatbelt and climbing out of the car, making sure to slam the door as he got out. 

He stomped down the road, the puddles that have now formed soaking his shoes and socks, but he didn't really care right now, he was too furious. Greg ground his teeth as the car pulled along beside him once again.  
“Mr. Holmes apologises for the misunderstanding. He requests you return to the car.” Anthea called out the window.   
“What part of Piss Off does he not understand?” Greg calls back, continuing his march home. With a sigh, Anthea returns to her phone, looking back up a moment later.   
“He wishes I tell you to stop being so stubborn and accept the lift, you are no good if you have a cold.” Anthea repeats the message from her phone. Greg turns around and leans in the window.   
“Firstly, it's my own bloody well business if I get a cold. Two, if he wants to apologise to me, tell him to do it himself and not through his assistant. And thirdly, tell him to piss off.” Greg barked, stepping back to the path and continuing on his journey home. 

The rest of the walk continued without interruption. Once back in his flat, Greg had walked off most of the anger and was more cold than anything. The first thing he did was strip right in his sitting room, dumping his clothes into the washing machine. He dried off the rest of his body with a towel and then changed into some fresh clothes of tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt. He settled on front of the television with a beer and called his local Chinese. He sighed at his day and lay his head back on the couch, resting his eyes. 

Greg jolted awake at the ringing of his bell, spilling his beer all over himself as his body jolted awake. He cursed under his breath as he peeled his t-shirt off and threw it across the room next to the washing machine. He didn't bother going into his room to pick up another t-shirt, the delivery boys had surely seen him looking much worse, especially when he first moved in here after the divorce. He grabbed his wallet and bounded to the door, swinging it open.  
“Alright mate, how much do I owe yo-” he said, looking through his wallet before looking up and meeting the eye of Mycroft Holmes. After a moment of standing frozen, he sighed while running his hand through his hair.   
“What do you want?” Greg demanded, putting on a fierce tone to distract from how vulnerable he was feeling as he stood next to Mycroft Holmes, clad in his usual three piece suit, wearing only a pair of tatty tracksuit bottoms.   
“I do believe you told me to apologise myself.” Mycroft said, glancing around the flat over Greg's shoulder. Greg's scowl faltered slightly, impressed that the man would take time out of his busy schedule before reminding himself that there would always be an ulterior motive with Mycroft.  
“And I recall also telling you to piss off.” Greg replied, giving him a challenging look. Everything had changed this morning, never again would Greg let this man trod over him.   
“Such is the paradox of Gregory Lestrade.” Mycroft remarked with an uneasy smirk. Greg looked at him expectantly.   
“Well? You do know that saying you've come to apologise isn't actually apologising?” Greg questioned, not happy with his attitude.   
“I was under the impression that one tends to apologise indoors. With both participants being fully clothed” Mycroft quipped, allowing his eyes fall to Greg's torso for the first time. Greg turned around, leaving the door open to allow Mycroft enter after him.   
“Not if you want to apologise the right way” Greg mumbled, padding to his room and grabbing the first t-shirt that came to his hand. He pulled it on over his head on the way back to the sitting room. He slumped back to wear he was sitting and nodded at place at the other end of the couch.   
“Alright. Talk.” Greg said, staring up at Mycroft. Mycroft took a breath and huffed it out before perching on the end of Greg's couch.   
“Very well” he started, bringing a smirk to Greg's lips, he was about to hear Mycroft Holmes apologise to him. He wished he had a camera.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of Mystrade in this chapter guys, but believe me, there will be tonnes next week.   
> Hope you all enjoyed, let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "First rule is, don't insult the person you're apologising to". 
> 
> Mycroft attempts to apologise to Greg, alcohol gets involved, and Greg makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry I did not update last week, I had three essays to do and was freaking out. Hope this makes up for it!

Greg knew that Mycroft did not just say that. He couldn't have, and yet, his words echoed through Greg's ears. He stared at him indignantly “Excuse me?” he asked, giving the man a chance to change what he had said. Mycroft sighed in frustration, not being one to apologise at all, let alone twice.   
“I said, I apologise that you miss interpreted the situation, I should have made things clearer for you.” he repeated, tone ridden with pure attitude.   
Greg shook his head slowly with teeth clenched. He blew a hissing breath through his nose before trusting himself to think.  
“You are- What the- I don't- Do you even-” he started several times, before realising he was lost for words. He felt a pang of bitter laughter bubble up “You are such a bloody wanker.” he commented in a break from the laughter. Mycroft looked stricken.   
“I do believe you are supposed to say 'Apology accepted'” he all but huffed. Greg mouth hung open as he stared at Mycroft.   
“You actually think that was apology, don't you?” he questioned. From the plain look on Mycroft's face he knew he was right. “Christ Mycroft. You basically said you were sorry that I was too stupid to understand what you were doing.” Mycroft nodded.   
“Yes, exactly. I said sorry. That is the only essential element of an apology.” he stated. Greg only stared. He had always thought Mycroft had more social knowledge than Sherlock, if only by a little, but clearly the man only knew how to give off that appearance and was actually as genuinely clueless as his brother.   
“No, Mycroft.” he said sternly “First rule is, don't insult the person you are apologising to. Second, you have to know what you are apologising for. Thirdly, you have to mean it, not just say it to keep me happy.” he explained “Then you apologise.” Greg let a moment of silence past before speaking “Alright, let's try again. What are you apologising for?” he asked, desperately hoping Mycroft was catching on. Mycroft looked perplexed and took a second before answering.   
“For giving you money” Mycroft tried.   
“And why are you apologising about that?” Greg prompted.   
“Because you did not want it.”   
“No.”  
“Because you thought it was a bribe.”   
“Mycroft.”  
“Because it may have been a method to encourage you to be compliant in the future.”  
“In other words?”   
“Because I bribed you.”  
Greg sighed, stretching back in the couch. Since when was getting an apology so much work?   
“Right. So then, do you mean it?” Greg asked, honestly a little curious.   
“Of course.”   
“Why?”  
“Why what?”   
“Why do you mean it?”  
Greg was met by silence. “Mycroft.” he warned “Why do you mean it?”   
“Because it displayed a lack of respect.” Mycroft finally decided to say. Greg looked at him curiously, silently urging him to continue.   
“You do not do your job for the money, obviously. You do what you think is right, and I should not have tried to invalidate that. I am sorry.”  
Greg stared at him for a moment, his face relaxing into a faint smile.  
“Apology accepted.” Greg answered. Mycroft nodded once and stood up, straightening his suit.   
“Where are you going?” Greg asked, his eyes moving over his body of their own accord.   
“Carrying out your second request.” he turned to Greg “Pissing off”. He quipped.   
“You can stay, have a drink” Greg offered, not entirely sure what he was doing, or his motivations behind it. Mycroft seemed to consider him for a moment.   
“I must return to the office.” Mycroft said, and Greg thought he heard a little resistance in his tone. He decided to risk it, he would regret it if he didn't.   
“Usually when you apologise you try to make it up to the person.” Greg started “And nothing would make me happier than seeing you suffer through one of my cheap beers.” he grinned, hoping he wasn't too transparent in wanting to spend time with Mycroft, just to rule out the posibility of having feelings for him, of course. Mycroft looked sceptical, but Greg kept his face passive.   
“Are you quite sure this is protocol?” he asked after a beat of silence.   
“Positive” Greg beamed, springing from the couch to get Mycroft a beer from the fridge. 

Greg revelled in Mycroft's look of disgust as he sniffed at the bottle Greg handed him. He continued to look at him, eager to catch the contortion of his face at the taste. Even Greg had to hold back a wince at this stuff. Subconsciously, Greg wet his own lips as he watched Mycroft raise the bottle to his mouth, wrapping his mouth around it. His eyes followed Mycroft's adam's apple bob as he swallowed.   
“Gregory? Are you feeling unwell?” Mycroft asked, drawing Greg back from his daze.   
“Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?” Greg asked, trying to gain control of himself.   
“I said that I rather think that one sip of that putrid concoction is enough for your forgiveness.” Mycroft repeated, setting the bottle to the coffee table.   
“Ah ah. No you don't” Greg said handing the drink back “Bottoms up, Holmes.” he said, clinking the neck of his bottle against Mycroft's before lowering it back, glad to see that Mycroft followed his lead. He drank down almost half the bottle in one swig, more to see if Mycroft could keep up with him, which he did. Mycroft cringed as soon as he took the bottle back down.   
“I do believe that is the worst thing that has ever entered my mouth.” Mycroft lamented. The corner of Greg's mouth pulled up into a smirk.   
“Oh yeah? I've had worse” he bragged, keeping a side eye on Mycroft to study his reaction.   
“Must you make everything so vulgar?” he asked, unamused.   
“What? I was talking about the cod liver oil my Mum used to make me take. What did you think- Oh, Mycroft, get your mind out of the gutter.” he winked. Winked. He just winked at Mycroft Holmes. He took another chug from his bottle. Mycroft scoffed, running his finger around the ring of the bottle opening.   
“I know exactly what you meant.” he said, not meeting Greg's eye.   
“Oh, did I manage to outsmart a Holmes” Greg teased with a playful smile.   
“Of course not. Do not be ridiculous.” Greg thought he sounded a bit miffed, so he decided to push.   
“You ever have cod liver oil, Mycroft?” Greg asked, subtly raising an eyebrow.   
“I do not remember” Mycroft answered stiffly, deciding not to address Greg's double meaning. He lifted the bottle back up, gulping back as much as he could while still looking refined. Greg snorted and got up from the couch to get himself another beer. 

Looking in the fridge, he made an impulse decision to bring another back for Mycroft.   
“You seemed to be enjoying that one” he said by way of explanation as he set the bottle on front of Mycroft. Mycroft greeted this with a sigh, but finished his bottle off anyway.   
“Why do you drink this?” Mycroft asked as Greg opened both their drinks. Greg shrugged.   
“It's cheap and it's alcohol. That's all there is to it, mate”. “Mate?” he thought, that was odd. He looked to Mycroft, realising it had not been him thinking.   
“Mate?” he asked, his face a wash of amusement and disbelief. Greg threw his eyes to the ceiling.   
“Oh shut up.” he said, still smiling. 

“I think I have some whiskey somewhere” Greg announced once they had finished their bottles, both of them being far too competitive to stop drinking first. “Might be more your style”.   
“I am sure most anything would be more my style than what you forced me to drink.” Mycroft complained once again, only to be met with a wave of the hand from Greg. He arrived back from the kitchen with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey, he handed it to Mycroft.   
“Got this for Christmas, is it any good?” Greg asked, slumping back into the couch.   
“It is not bad” Mycroft replied with a nod. He opened the bottle and filled both of their glasses and handed one to Greg, leaning back into the couch himself. Mycroft sipped from the glass and hummed “Yes, good.” he announced. Greg was glad he had impressed the man at least somewhat. 

Three quarters of a bottle later, the pair were in hysterics at Greg's story about knowing Sally and Anderson were at it before Sherlock by catching them snogging in the pub one night. It was just like in the elevator. Mycroft had taken off his jacket and loosened his tie, it was too warm in the flat, after all. Greg liked this, it seemed easy. Greg realised that this might be his last opportunity to carry out what he had started in the elevator, not sure if he would ever see Mycroft so relaxed again, as he somehow doubted they would become regular drinking pals.   
“We've had quite an eventful day.” Greg said, hoping to throw the conversation back to what almost happened between them.   
“Yes, I would say it has been.” he agreed, sipping from his glass.   
“Wouldn't say that's a bad thing though.” Greg continued, keeping a close eye on Mycroft, who ignored the statement. “Gotten to know you better. Found out you're actually human.” he rambled on, not exactly sure where he was going with this.  
“Of course I am human.” Mycroft said, unamused.   
“You don't act like it.” Greg insisted, Mycroft taking another drink. “I got to wondering what would have happened if it hadn't have started working again.” Greg pushed on.   
“We would have still been in the elevator.” Mycroft said shortly, not looking at Greg who sighed.   
“You know what I mean.”   
“I am afraid that I do not.” Greg pursed his lips, shuffling on the couch so that he was slightly closer to Mycroft.   
“I'll remind you” he murmured “We were close, like this.” their shoulders brushed “We looked at each other” he paused until Mycroft met his eyes “Then we got closer, like this” he whispered, moving so there was virtually no distance between their lips “What would happen next?” he breathed.   
“Gregory” Mycroft protested weakly.   
“What would have happened?” Greg insisted.  
“You know what. That does not mean it should happen.” Mycroft argued.   
“I guess we'll find out” Greg said, letting the words linger before he pushed forward to press his lips against Mycroft's. His eyes fell closed and after a beat, he began to move his lips. Mycroft's lips were soft and thin. It was an interesting combination. He could smell that cologne again and inhaled deeply. After a very short while, Greg pulled back, running his eyes over Mycroft's face to gauge a reaction. Mycroft cleared his throat.   
“Yes, well. Now that you have gotten your answer, I will take my leave.” Mycroft nodded, standing from the couch.   
“You don't have to go.” Greg told him, looking up as the other man straightened his clothes, and putting his jacket back on.   
“I am afraid I do.” Mycroft said indifferently.   
“Do you want to meet up this week?” Greg blurted, his mind catching up with his mouth a few moments later. Had he really just asked Mycroft on a date. He kept his face determined as he waited for his answer.   
“I do not think so, Gregory. Apologies.” Mycroft replied blankly.   
“Oh. Right. That's fine. I'll see you out.” Greg said, not being able to hide the blow to his ego. He walked Mycroft to the door with a professional goodbye and came back to his couch. Why the bloody hell did he go and do that? Of course Mycroft would not want to go out with him. It had been a ridiculous idea. He hoped this crush, or whatever this was, would not last long. He was eager to get back to hating the man, it was much easier than this. His fingers found their way to his lips, tracing them, yes, hating him was much easier indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think guys, I have a lot of plans for this piece. 
> 
> Also, I've set up a tumblr for fics, so if anyone has any prompts or requests, submit it here:   
> jaybird-fics.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He knows two grown men kissed. Wow. Call the police. Oh. You already have.”   
> Sherlock makes a deduction and consequences are caused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is here! I am super duper sorry for the delay, Uni has been insane, but hopefully this makes up for it.

“So how's your new boyfriend?” John teased once Sherlock had left Greg's office with a gagging noise. “Good if his reaction is anything to go by” John laughed.   
“We kissed. Well, I kissed him.” Greg grumbled, keeping his eyes to the file he was working on. John fixed him with a stare of disbelief.   
“I was only talking to you about it yesterday evening. When did all this happen? Quick morning snog with Mycroft Holmes, was it?” John questioned, moving to sit at the other side of Greg's desk.   
“Last night” he answered shortly, not eager to brag about his failures. John's forehead creased as his eyebrows all but met his hairline. Greg glanced up at John's silence and scoffed “Not like that, you arsehole.” Greg said, a smile finding it's way to his face “I did not shag Mycroft. I think I'd be in a marginally better mood if I had.” he added.   
“Right. So you want to shag him. Glad you've made a decision about that.” John said, wondering how things were happening so quickly between the pair, and how long this had been building up for.   
“I don't know. Yeah, I guess. He's fit.” Greg said with a shrug before continuing “He's a good bloke too, you know? I had a laugh with him.” he explained.   
“So you do fancy him?” John asked, meeting a long silence as Greg stared over his shoulder. He sighed.  
“Yeah. Suppose I do.” Greg admitted.   
“But you said you kissed, why are you in a mood then?” John pushed.   
“The kiss lasted about three seconds. He left straight after. I asked him out, and he said no.” Greg explained bitterly and was met with a sympathetic expression from John.  
“Sorry to hear that, mate. I wouldn't take it too personally, can you imagine him with anyone?” Greg shrugged. He couldn't imagine the Mycroft they both knew in a relationship, John was right about that. But the other Mycroft he had seen, the one who let loose and told jokes and who was fun. That Mycroft, he could see in a relationship, Especially in a relationship with him. “I best get back, Mrs Hudson wanted me to change a light bulb and I don't want to leave her in the dark.”John excused himself. Greg snorted at his joke “Goodbye John.” he said with a roll of his eyes.   
Once he was alone he set back to work with a sigh, trying to put what had happened the night before to the back of his mind. 

Greg frowned at his phone that had disturbed his work. Mycroft Holmes lit up the screen. Greg took a breath before answering.   
“My Brother was in with you today,” Mycroft said before Greg even had a chance to say hello.   
“Lovely to hear from you too Mycroft.” Greg mumbled, seeing that they were back to their old dynamic already,   
“You allowed him deduce you.” Mycroft said, sounding like a scolding.   
“It's not as if I get much choice in it, Mycroft.”   
“You could try stop being so obvious.”   
“What the bloody hell is your problem?” Greg snapped.   
“Sherlock knows what happened yesterday.”   
“He knows two grown men kissed. Wow. Call the police. Oh. You already have.” Greg ranted, annoyed that the act was being vilinised.   
“You know how he is.” Mycroft sounded exasperated.  
“Yeah well the way he is isn't my fault” Greg all but huffed. There was a long pause on the other end of the phone.   
“Is your offer still open?” Greg wrinkled his brow at the sudden change.   
“Which offer?” He questioned, hoping the other man was talking about what he thought.   
“I am free tomorrow at seven.” Mycroft said defensively. Greg's lips curled up at the sides, he wasn't about to make his easy for the man.   
“What does that have to do with me?” Greg asked, doing his best to sound genuinely baffled.   
“You know what.”  
“I don't think I do.”  
“So we can...go out.” Greg had to hold his breath to prevent him laughing at the clear irritation in Mycroft's voice.   
“Go out? Do we have a meeting or something?” Greg asked, not sure how much farther he could push the topic. Greg heard a mumble on the other end of the phone and squinted as if it would help him hear better. “Sorry, what was that?”. Another mumble. Greg shook his head “Mycroft, could you please put that big mouth of yours to some use and speak up.”   
“A date.” Mycroft said, tension in his voice clear. The grin on Greg's face grew as he leaned back in his chair.  
“Oh. A date? Well Mycroft I am flattered, but I am going to have to check my schedule.” Greg teased, his mood having increases exponentially.   
“You are free also.”   
“Did you- did you check my schedule?”   
“Yes.”   
“Right. Course you did. Well then I guess you know when the best time to pick me up is. I'll see you tomorrow, Mycroft,” Greg said, hanging up before Mycroft could get the last word. A date. He had a date with Mycroft Holmes. 

Showered, yes. Shaved, yes. Hair combed, yes. Aftershave on, yes. On paper, Greg was ready. In his mind, it was a different story. How did one even act on a date with Mycroft? He'd probably be taken to somewhere way too posh for him and end up embarrassing himself, and Mycroft, and the man would never want to see him again. Greg took a deep breath and shook his head. He was being ridiculous. He'd gone on plenty of dates before, and usually ended well. So, it had been a good while since his last date, that didn't mean tonight was going to be a disaster.  
Pacing by the window, he saw the car pull up outside his house After waiting for a moment, Greg realised that Mycroft was not going to call up to him. Lingering a moment more my the window, a beep sounded from the car. Rolling his eyes, Greg grabbed his jacket.   
He swung the door of the car open with a bright grin.   
“Hey, My- Oh for god's sake what are you doing here?” he asked upon seeing Anthea being the only person in the car. She looked unimpressed at his outburst.   
“I am here to transport you to your date, Detective Inspector. Please get in the car.” she informed him. Greg flopped into the seat and sat in silence until the car began moving.   
“He does know he's supposed to pick up a date himself, right?”   
“Mr Holmes tends to be rather busy.”   
“Right. Yeah. I'm kind of surprised he didn't just get you to ask me.”  
“I managed to turn him off the idea.”  
Greg stared at her in disbelief and find that as the car journey wore on, he was becoming more and more sure that this would indeed be a disaster. 

 

“Give his name when you go in. He should be there now.” Anthea informed him. Greg gave her tight smile and walked into a swankier looking restaurant than he had even imagined. Inside, he tentatively gave Mycroft's name to the man at front of house and was led to a table where he was waiting. Greg smiled as they made eye contact, taking in Mycroft's appearance, who was even more well dressed than usual, and if Greg was judging correctly, feeling rather uncomfortable as well. 

“Hey” Greg started as he was seated.   
“Good evening, Gregory.” Mycroft replied stiffly. Greg looked at him for a few moments before snorting a laugh.   
“We're not at a business meeting. Take a breath and relax” Greg told Mycroft, but also took the opportunity to remind himself.   
“I am perfectly calm, thank you.” Mycroft said, but Greg noticed him taking a breath and relieving some of the tension in his shoulders anyway. 

“That was absolutely amazing Mycroft.” Gred said as he finished his meal, Mycroft following closely behind.   
“I am glad to hear it was to your tastes” Mycroft replied, placing his own cutlery down.   
“You tasted my beer, doesn't take much to impress me.” Greg reminded him, more relaxed than he had been at the beginning of the dinner, not that that was a hard thing to be. 

 

After Mycroft paid the bill, dismissing Greg's weak objection, for they both knew it was far out of his price range, they were outside the restaurant in the cold air. Greg blew out a breath which became visable in the air while Mycroft took out his phone.   
“The car will be here momentarily” Mycroft informed Greg, putting his phone in his pocket and keeping his hands there.   
“Oh, will you actually be on the journey with me this time?” Greg teased, even though he wouldn't be surprised if Mycroft said he would be travelling alone.   
“Of course not.” Mycroft scoffed, clearly having learned at least one etiquette lesson tonight.

The drive back to Greg's flat was quiet. Mycroft looked straight ahead of him the whole drive and seemed to be deep in thought. Greg switched between staring out the window, at chancing glances at Mycroft, completely sure of his feelings for the ridiculous man now.   
Greg had mixed feelings when the car slowed and finally stopped. He found he was disappointed that the date was over now, not wanting to say goodbye to Mycroft, but he also had the hope that if Mycroft had a good time also, which Greg sensed he had, then he could try for a kiss.   
“Thank you for a lovely evening, Gregory.” Mycroft said, disturbing Greg's thoughts. Greg glanced from his door to Mycroft, not particularly wanting to snog the man in his car.   
“What, you're not going to walk me to my door?” Greg said, trying to add a joking tone. Mycroft looked as if he was going to speak, but kept his mouth shut, obviously having learned his lesson about questioning dating traditions. 

Greg unlocked his door and cracked it open. He considered asking Mycroft in for a coffee, but decided it was too soon for that. He felt like this could go somewhere, and didn't want to rush things.   
“I had a really good time. Thanks for asking me.” Greg said, his eyes cast down to Myroft's lips.   
“As it turns out, I am actually rather glad that I had to ask you.” Greg was just about to lean in when something clicked in his head.   
“Hang on, what do you mean 'had to ask me'?” he asked, pulling back to look at Mycroft's whole face. Mycroft looked back at Greg before his eyes widened, coming to the conclusion that that probably was not the right thing to say. Mycroft pursed his lips, but seeing that Greg was waiting for an answer, he reluctantly spoke.   
“Sherlock.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it, guys! I am to happy with all the support this has been getting and I love to hear what you all have to say, so leave me a comment if you are so inclined.   
> Also, I don't have access to the blog I posted last time any more, so if you did, or want to send me a prompt, mail it to my personal tumblr Mycroftsbum.tumblr.com and I will post it here! Thanks guys!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Does social protocol dictate a second date is in order?"   
> "Oh piss off." 
> 
> How will Greg react when he hears the reason for his date? Will this mean the end of their relationship before it has even begun?

Greg ground his teeth and tried to remember his breathing. “What about Sherlock?” he asked through gritted teeth. Mycroft cleared his throat and kept a straight face.

“Really, Gregory. There is no need to overreact.” he said, trying to calm his date down. Greg narrowed his eyes, clearly this is not what he wanted to hear.

“What about Sherlock?” he asked again, punctuating each word. Mycroft rolled his eyes at Greg's reaction and let out a sigh.

“Sherlock visited me after he deduced you.” he said pointedly, insinuating it was Greg's fault yet again. At his glare, Mycroft continued “He stated that social protocol dictated that one should accept a date after they are kissed. When I argued against this fact, he asked what our Mother would think of it, and threatened to tell her.” Mycroft explained wearily, but still even surprising himself that he was telling the truth. Greg stared at him for a long moment, opening and closing his mouth several times before he could even process what to say.

“You went out with me because, you were afraid your Mum would tell you off otherwise?” Greg asked incredulously, sure he had gotten something wrong, but from the looks of it, he had hit the nail right on the head. His question was met with a scoff from Mycroft.

“I was not afraid.” he replied, as if that was the most problematic part of what Greg had just said. Greg's face softened, anger being replaced with disappointment. Greg gave him a weak smile, which showed more emotion than it covered.

“Sure. Okay. Well I'll see you around, Mycroft.” he said, turning to his door once again.

“Does social protocol dictate a second date is in order?” Greg froze. He was wrong, there was definitely anger still left in him.

“Oh piss off.” he growled, quickly stepping inside and slamming the door on Mycroft. Kicking his shoes across his sitting room, he crossed to the window to watch Mycroft walk to his car with not a bother about him. Greg harrumphed “Wanker” he mumbled, heading to his kitchen to get a beer.

 

***

“Oi. Sherlock. Get your scrawny arse back in here.” Greg called as Sherlock made to flounce from his office. Wearing a petulant expression, Sherlock re-emerged from behind the door.

“What? What is it now? I've already solved your case, what now, should I tie your shoes?” he asked grumpily, not having slept last night. Greg stood from his chair and gave Sherlock as stern a look as he could manage.

“You. Butt out of my personal life” Greg warned, pointing at him like a child.

“Ah.” Sherlock said, taking a seat and steepling his hands below his chin “Date didn't go well then?” he asked smugly. Greg let out a suffering breath, wondering once again why the hell he bothered putting up with these Holmes'.

“Pretty sure I just told you to butt out” Greg huffed, slumping back to his chair as he scrubbed his hands through his hair.

“Well, at least now you've gotten this silly idea out of your head.” Sherlock said, leaning back in his chair.

“What silly idea?” Greg asked back gruffly to which Sherlock smirked.

“The silly idea that my brother would ever be in a relationship with you” he answered as if it were obvious. That hit Greg. He had been making a fool of himself, ever thinking he could have a chance with Mycroft Holmes.

“Right. Yes. I get it. You can go now.” Sherlock gave one of his characteristic eye rolls.

“Oh stop being so sensitive. If you could stop self pitying long enough to actually think, you may save yourself from being so annoyingly upset.” he snapped. Greg narrowed his eyes, but allowed Sherlock to carry on. “I meant, that my brother does not do relationships. He continues to lie about 'not being lonely', though anyone with eyes could see otherwise. Perhaps that is why you were drawn to him, as part of your saviour complex.” Sherlock thought out loud, gaining himself a scathing look from Greg. “You two were never going to get together, it is better that it ended before it began.” Sherlock told him resolutely “Now I really must go, Molly is holding a body for me” he excused himself gleefully.

Greg could hardly concentrate on his work as the situation and Sherlock's words stewed in his mind. After lunch, Greg entered back into his office to get back to the mound of paperwork he had been struggling through in the morning. He jolted from his thoughts as the flash of colour on his desk caught him off guard. “Bloody hell” he muttered, approaching the elaborate fruit basket cautiously. He lifted the card and scoffed when he read the words 'Apologies. M'. Greg sat in his chair for a long while, just staring at the basket while he tried to think of what to do. He took out his phone and had Mycroft's number entered with a blank message, wanting to tell him both to piss off, and tell him that it's okay to be lonely, and that he could help. In the end, he decided for something else.

_I'm allergic to grapefruit. GL_

Once he had gotten that out of his system, he set the basket to the floor and prepared to return to his work as his phone went off twice.

_I am aware. M  
Check the back of the card. M_

Greg frowned at the message, but all the same, bent to to turn over the card, laughing when he saw what it said 'Worry not. It is just a rather large orange.' Shaking his head, he replied to Mycroft.

_Clever bastard. Cheers for that. Not much of a fruit eater though. GL_

Upon hearing his phone sound once again, Greg set his paperwork aside, knowing he would not get much done with these interruptions. He would stay late tonight, he told himself as he read over Mycroft's message.

_I am also aware. Your last medical examination results were not as good as they could have been. M_

After a moment, the scowl he had tried to wear slid from his face with a bout of laughter at how ridiculous the man was. Before this whole thing, he would be furious at Mycroft for invading his privacy like that, but now it made him laugh. After all, what harm was it?

_You know you can't just send me a fruit basket every time you piss me off, yeah? GL_

Greg tore open the plastic of the basket and took out a green apple. After shining it on his trousers, he took a bite from it, relishing in the loud crunch it made in the quiet of his office.

_Once again, I am aware. Though, there is a surprisingly wide selection of basket fillers to choose from. It will take a while before I exhaust all the options, hopefully. M_

Greg found himself smiling lightly at how Mycroft was joking with him. He almost wanted to forgive him immediately. But no, he would make him work a little more, first.

_If you say 'I am aware' one more time, I swear to god I will shove this basket somewhere you don't want it. GL_

Mycroft's reply was simple, but made Greg chuckle all the same.

_Understood. M_

Licking his lips, Greg sent off a message asking if he could call Mycroft, being met with a negative answer, as Mycroft was currently in a meeting which he could not leave, but could get away with texting in.

_Alright then. Answer me a question honestly and I'll forgive you. And I mean honestly, not just what you think you're expected to say. GL_

Greg suggested, hoping this would go to plan, though if it didn't, he supposed it would at least put his mind to ease so he could move past this whole thing.

_Do you fancy me? GL_

He puffed a breath as he sent the message off. Fidgeting as he waited, he actually began his paper work again in an attempt to distract him. After a long while, a text finally came in. Greg swallowed, and then let out a sigh as he opened it up.

_I believe I do. M_

Greg beamed as he read the words and immediately replied. He would have liked to torture Mycroft with a long wait, but couldn't endure it himself.

_Well then the answer to your question is yes. GL_

A moment passed and Greg smirked at the image of Mycroft staring at his phone with a baffled expression, not understanding Greg once again.

_My question? M_

Mycroft had replied exactly what Greg had wanted him to, and with a smug smile, Greg replied.

_About if social protocol dictated a second date. It does. GL_

 

Having asked Mycroft to call him once he was done at his meeting, Greg powered through the rest of his paperwork at an impressive pace, his mind clearer than it had been in a while. He was already three quarters of the way through when he got Mycroft's call. Deciding that it was definitely time for a break, he pushed his chair back and put his feet on his desk as he picked up.

“Lestrade” he greeted, as if he didn't know who was calling.

“Detective Inspecter Lest-” Mycroft started, only to be interrupted by Greg.

“Mycroft stop being a tosser and call me Greg.”

“You answered the phone saying Lestrade, it is hardly unreasonable to think that is what you would want to be called” Mycroft explained while Greg rolled his eyes.

“It was a joke, you berk.” he laughed before continuing “I think I should choose the date this time.” Greg said decisively.

“If you wish” Mycroft replied politely.

“I'm going to take you bowling.” Greg informed him, grinning as he imagined the look on Mycroft's face. The was a cough on the other end of the line, and Greg knew he had ruffled Mycroft's feathers.

“Are you quite sure?” Mycroft tried, his voice sounding strained. It took all Mycroft's effort not to laugh out loud.

“Oh I am positive.” he said, even his voice smiling.

“Right. We will go bowling.” Mycroft said for what Greg expected to be the first time in his life.

“Brilliant” Greg said triumphantly “Are you free Friday? They do BYOB bowling that night” Greg suggested.

“I can make Friday.”

“Excellent. Make sure to dress casual, yeah?”

“Yes.” there was a pause “How casual?” Greg chuckled.

“Well I'm likely to be wearing jeans. You can still wear trousers if you like” Greg informed him, not mentioning how much he would like to see Mycroft in jeans “Just not a three piece suit.” he added at the end.

“Understood.” Mycroft said, sounding positively distressed.

“I'll meet you at the bowling alley then. Eight O' clock.”

“I will see you then.”

“Alright. I've got to go. Some of us have work to do.” Greg teased with a grin, being rewarded with the sound of Mycroft huffing a laugh on the other end of the phone.

“Goodbye Gregory” he said, sounding amused.

“Yeah, bye Mycroft.” he said finally before hanging up the phone.

 

Greg tipped his head back against the chair, content. He was glad he did that. Now he had a second date with Mycroft, something he doubted many people at all got. He dissolved into laughter once more upon realising that he was bringing Mycroft Holmes to bring your own beer bowling. Even if this date ended up going disastrously, at least it would be amusing.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah, sorry this was so late, again. Uni is insane, and will be for the next while. Updates may be a bit staggered, but after the 19th of December I will be uploading regularly!   
> Thanks for all the feedback, it really makes my day to see it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Gregory, I do believe you have forgotten the second half of my name”
> 
> The boys go bowling.

Greg gave the cabbie his fare once they pulled up outside the bowling alley. Hoping out, he scanned the area for Mycroft. He smiled in relief once his eyes landed on him. He approached the other man, who clearly did not know what casual meant as he was still in a suit.   
“Hey, sorry I'm late, had to pop into tesco for our beer” Greg greeted Mycroft with a smile.   
“Not a problem” Mycroft said somewhat stiffly. Greg's expression softened as he began to think that he had been perhaps a bit too hard on the other man.   
“Hey, relax. It will be fun” he promised “I came to this for a stag a while ago. It was a good laugh” he said with what he hoped was a reassuring look. Mycroft nodded once.   
“I am sure it will be” he said, still sounding stuffy.   
“Got your favourite beer anyway, so there's that.” Greg teased, holding up the plastic bag filled with the cans of beer he had made Mycroft try that night at the flat. Mycroft wrinkled his nose, of course.   
“I feared that” he said, picking up the large brief case by his feet. “I brought some craft beer. It contains the same core components and ratios as your beer, though it rather goes down more smoothly.” he explained as he opened the case, displaying four bottles of expensive beer.   
Greg bit down on his lip, Mycroft was trying, and laughing at him now would not help matters, but he couldn't help himself.   
“Why did you bring them in a brief case?” he managed to ask through the splutters of laughter. Mycroft stiffened.   
“Well, how else was I to transport them?” he asked defensively. A couple of deep breaths later, and Greg could speak to Mycroft without risk of laughing in his face.   
“In a bag?” he suggested, nodding back to his plastic bag once again. Mycroft turned his nose up.  
“Hardly” he said indignantly. Greg raised an eyebrow.   
“And exactly why is it so unthinkable?” he pressed, moving out of the way of the door as a group of uni students ascended on the place.   
“Well I wouldn't want to look...” he started, trying to find a word that wasn't offensive.   
“I'm going to stop you there. Let's head in before that crew get all the good shoes” Greg interrupted, stopping Mycroft before he put his foot in his mouth, again. Mycroft furrowed his brow as he followed Greg into the building.   
“Shoes?” he asked curiously.   
“Yes. Bowling shoes.”  
“We don't have our own shoes?” He asked in disbelief. Greg turned to Mycroft once they were ask the desk and decided not to answer, instead asking “What size shoe are you?” he asked, leaning against the counter.   
“Eleven” he answered suspiciously.   
“You know what they say about big feet.” Greg said with a smirk, causing Mycroft to roll his eyes “Big shoes” he continued, feigning innocence “I told you Mycroft, head out of the gutter”.   
“It is not my fault that you insist on making insinuations” Mycroft bristled.   
“Hey, a pair of elevens and a pair of nines please” he said to the young woman behind the desk. “Take your shoes off” he told Mycroft, bending down to untie is own. After a moment of huffing and a pointed look from Greg, Mycroft finally slipped his shoes off and followed Greg in placing them on the counter. 

Greg wished he had a camera to capture the look on Mycroft's face when he confronted with the garish velcro shoes he was expected to wear.   
“Problem?” Greg asked with a smirk.   
“None.” Mycroft answered, determined not to be seem stuck up, even if he was failing monumentally so far. Once Mycroft had put the shoes on, much to his disgust, Greg beamed.   
“Right, we're in lane four.” Greg told Mycroft as he led him in the right direction. Greg set his bag of beer on one of the seat and looked to their neighbours. On their right, a hen party filled with cackling women in feather boas, to their left was the same group of uni students that had passed them. Greg sat on front of the screen and began to input their names. He glanced up to Mycroft, still standing like a lemon “Sit down, we'll be playing in a minute.” Greg informed him. Mycroft glanced down at the plastic seat with his mouth upturned. Out of the corner of his eye, Greg could see Mycroft take out a handkerchief from his pocket, and wipe down the seat before sitting down and carefully replacing the handkerchief. 

Greg had inserted their names and pressed enter, causing Mycroft's brow to crease as he read 'Myc' on the screen above them.   
“Gregory, I do believe you have forgotten the second half of my name” Mycroft pointed out, trying to keep the irritation from his voice.   
“Oh, would you look at that. Well, nothing to do about it now.” Greg said, attempting to keep his face straight.   
“I can see an edit button in the corner.” Mycroft said, not buying Greg's act for one moment.   
“Don't want to waste game time. It's my turn first.” Greg said dismissively, swaggering across to fetch an appropriate ball. After testing a number of them, he finally settled on one. “Watch this.” Greg said, giving Mycroft a comical wink. Walking towards the lane, he threw the ball and knocked over six pins. Taking his second throw he knocked down two. He raised his eyebrows to Mycroft. “You're up.” he told him.   
Mycroft stood and approached the balls like Greg had while Greg took a can from the bag and cracked it open. Greg took a drag from the can as he watched Mycroft look at the options cluelessly. “Need a hand?” Greg called over. He could see Mycroft's stifled huff.  
“Under what criteria should a ball be chosen?” he asked. Greg set his can on the floor by his seat and moved to join Mycroft.   
“You need to see which feels right.” Greg explained, picking up a ball which was lighter than his he handed it to Mycroft “How does that feel?” he asked. Mycroft held it cradled in his hands.   
“Fine. Good.” he said unsurely.   
“Put your fingers the holes” Greg instructed him in an amused tone. Mycroft did as he asked. “Now, see if the swing feels natural.”   
“The swing” Mycroft mumbled as he half heartedly swung the ball in his arm. Greg rolled his eyes.   
“You won't know if it's right unless you get the technique right” Greg said, cringing at what he was about to do. He settled himself behind Mycroft and put his and over his. With his chest pressed against Mycroft's back, he spoke in a low voice “First, the backswing” Greg said as he lead Mycroft's hand back, letting it linger for a moment. “And now, swing forward” he said, bringing Mycroft's hand back down and out. Reluctantly, he let go of Mycroft's hand and stepped back. “So? Does that one feel alright?” Greg asked.   
“Fine. Yes. I'll use this.” Mycroft said while Greg revelled in the red glow on the man's cheeks. He sauntered back to his seat, retrieving his can. “You want one opened or are you gonna have your craft?” Greg asked. Mycroft fixed him with a look.   
“You can keep them. Help yourself to the craft, also.” Mycroft replied to Greg's amusement.” 

Greg was awfully glad he had come up with the bowling idea as he watched Mycroft imitate the way Greg had thrown the ball, his trousers pulling taut across his arse. Greg's jaw dropped as every pin fell to the ground on his first swing. Mycroft turned back to fact Greg, his expression smug.   
“I assume I do not take a second turn?” he asked Greg, who let out a laugh.   
“No. And that was just beginners luck, you tosser.” Greg teased, taking one more gulp from his can before getting up to take his turn. 

This carried on with Mycroft striking every time with Greg calling it luck, and Mycroft calling it physics. Finally, with a pleasant buzz running through them both, the screen flashed to say that their session had ended. “Well, it looks like you well and truly thrashed me.” Greg said with a laugh.   
“Beginners luck.” Mycroft smirked back. They stood and began gathering their things, putting their rubbish in Greg's plastic bag to throw out once they got to a bin.   
“Oi, you with the hair, want to give her a special last night of freedom?” one of the women from the hen party called over to Greg. Greg sent a chuffed smile back over at them, happy that young women were till in him, even if he didn't return the interest. Mycroft bristled beside Greg, not used to the attention, nor the spike of jealously he felt.   
“Oh don't worry, sunshine, you can join in too.” another woman piped up causing an eruption of laughter amongst the women, and Greg.   
“Sorry ladies, this one is a bit high maintenance, needs all my attention.” he winked, causing Mycroft's face to redden brightly.   
“Give him a kiss!” the bride to be demanded after taking a swig of champagne from the bottle and passing it along to her friend. Greg turned to Mycroft, searching his face for permission, but only finding pure anxiety. He smiled sympathetically before turning back to the women. “Sorry love, he's all mine, we only do that in private.” he told her, illiciting a whine from the rest of the group.   
“Oh just one on the cheek. Please? It's my hen party..” she pleaded. Greg sighed and quickly leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on Mycroft's cheek. The women cheered, as well as some of the students next to them that had looked over at the commotion. Greg gave a laugh and squeezed Mycroft's arm reassuringly.   
“We've got to get off, enjoy your wedding. And the rest of your night.” Greg wished the bride.   
“You're going to get him off? Remember to stay safe!” The first woman who spoke called out.   
“Goodbye girls.” He said wearily, despite finding her rather funny. 

“You alright?” Greg asked Mycroft when they were finally outside.   
“Fine.” Mycroft said, the cool air helping his blush to die down.   
“Did you get a bit embarrassed?” Greg asked and Mycroft shook his head. Greg raised his brows.   
“Fine, I was a little embarrassed.” he admitted grumpily.   
“Why?” Greg asked.   
“Public displays. I don't like the attention.” he told Greg, who snorted loudly.   
“Oh piss off. Don't like attention. You're a complete drama queen, you love attention.” Greg said through laughter.   
“I don't like attention I haven't prepared for.” Mycroft pressed on.   
“Right. Got it. No surprise snogs in public.” Greg said once he had got his breath back.   
“Should I call for the car?” Mycroft asked after a moment of silence. Greg considered it for a moment before scrunching his nose “I think we can walk. Is yours closer than mine?” Greg asked and Mycroft shook his head. “Right, then we can walk to mine and you can get the car from there” he concluded with a smile. 

It only took a few minutes for Mycroft to come back to himself after the ordeal and was soon chatting away once again.   
“Would it be okay if I held your hand?” Greg asked, not wanting to embarrass Mycroft by taking him by surprise again. It was late enough, and bitterly cold out, so there were not many people around. Greg hoped that would make a difference.   
“I think it would be okay, yes” Mycroft answered, holding his hand out for Greg who interlaced his fingers with Mycroft's. 

At Greg's door, he knew that this time would go a lot smoother. “I liked this. It was good fun.” he said, fingering through his keys.   
“Surprisingly, I agree.” Mycroft replied, scuffing his shoes along the path.   
“Do you want to come in while you wait for your lift?” Greg offered, hoping Mycroft would accept. Instead, he nodded across the road where a black car that Greg hadn't even noticed was waiting. Greg leaned closer and whispered in Mycroft's ear “How good is your driver at keeping secrets?” he asked, purposely giving his voice a gravelly sound. Mycroft swallowed.   
“Exceptional.”   
Greg's lips curled up as he closed the short space between them, and kissed Mycroft gently. At Mycroft's enthusiastic response, he began to kiss more firmly, a passion oozing from him and he leaned back against his door, his fingers dipping below Mycroft's jacket to trace along the sides of the expensive shirt. 

When they finally broke apart, Greg was looking at Mycroft with a dazed expression on his face, and was delirious to see that Mycroft was wearing a matching one.   
“You get to pick the date next time.” Greg said, hoping it did not come across too presumptuously.   
“Thank you.” Mycroft said simply.   
One more chaste kiss, and a long goodbye, and Mycroft was back in his car and Greg in his flat. Mycroft was already planning their next date, and how he could find any way to take Greg out of his comfort zone as he had done to Mycroft repeatedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm really not sure. I think this is a natural ending, though I think there also be more here to work with, however, I don't want to ruin it by going off on a tangent. What do you think? Does anyone have any suggestions on where to go with this? Let me know! 
> 
> And as always, thank you so much for all the feedback, I really love it and find it really helpful!


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